The thought of beauty became an obsession. The advanced guard rode on to drive away any opposition, while the main body of the procession crossed the bridge, and slowly toiled up Holborn Hill. "Your answer, gem'men?" demanded Sharples. " "Very well, sir. “If you speak—farewell. There was no way of recalling the words; so she waited. "Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips. She gazed with a quiet detachment toward the window and the Oxford Street traffic, and in her heart she was busy kicking this man to death.
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